had been launched a little blog. The fourth truth is that I've had busier than it had budgeted originally, and the time and energy left to write is the truth quite low. But here I am, with some brief but something. I hope to return more often, though, now that we are in the past, I doubt it ...
My name is Manuel, I have 24 years, and I was born and raised in a small town south of the country, where rain was painting every day the streets and where the winds revive him and live with their freshness, where the sun, when seen, painted all the houses of the richest colors and the clearest blue sky, and where the nights reveal cloudless skies where the stars align and they tell a thousand stories of times past who devote a little of their time to observe them.
However, a combination of factors, academic, economic and desire for personal growth, led me to abandon the aforementioned shared personal paradise, and come here, to the city in which stands the building whose windows look as my pen moves across the sheet. A city made of concrete, and I do not mean the material, a city made of dreams and artificial light bulbs burned, illusions that are just construction sites love hidden among millions of exhaust pipes, where the sun is struggling to return to exile. A city whose name I will not say to not discredit.
changed my life and I do not know if for the better. And is that if the cost of more visibility, is to forget the blue skies and the stars read only memories I do not know if they make a profit.
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